Fire From the Sky: Hostile Fire Read online

  FIRE FROM

  THE SKY

  BOOK SEVEN

  FIRE FROM THE SKY: BOOK 7: HOSTILE FIRE

  by N.C. REED

  Published by Creative Texts Publishers

  PO Box 50

  Barto, PA 1950a

  www.creativetexts.com

  Copyright 2019 by N.C. REED

  All rights reserved

  Cover photos used by license.

  Design copyright 2019 Creative Texts Publishers, LLC

  The Fire From the Sky Logo is a trademark of Creative Texts Publishers, LLC

  This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.

  The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual names, persons, businesses, and incidents is strictly coincidental. Locations are used only in the general sense and do not represent the real place in actuality.

  Kindle Edition

  FIRE FROM

  THE SKY

  BOOK Seven

  N.C. Reed

  For the three who have gone ahead;

  May angel’s wings carry you home.

  Never doubt that you are missed.

  And loved.

  Without knowledge, there can be no survival.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  PROLOGUE

  William Shirley watched as the people he had assembled for what others were calling a 'reconnaissance in force' gathered their equipment and shook down their ranks. He had combined three different 'squads' into a new platoon of thirty-one people, adding that force to an established platoon of thirty-five more. They would head north in a small string of vehicles that included a school bus to investigate the situation north of the Alabama-Tennessee state line.

  Shirley's group, the self-entitled 'North Alabama People's Militia' had lost a great deal of personnel and equipment in that area and he wanted to know why and to who. It was inevitable that the group would have to head north at some point in search of supplies. They had stripped their own area nearly bare over the last few months and moving too far south was out of the question. While he considered Decatur to be part of their 'territory', moving any further south than that risked a confrontation with the gangs of Birmingham, something his group lacked the strength for. There had already been a few skirmishes between the two groups and Shirley was determined to avoid any more clashes with such a large and vicious outfit.

  So north it was, into rural middle Tennessee. The area immediately north of the line should be safe enough and resource rich. That area was full of farms and livestock operations that should yield a good amount of food for his operation, and he meant to have it. If they waited too long then someone stronger, either from Nashville or perhaps Chattanooga might move into the area and declare it theirs. If the Militia wanted that territory and the goods it might provide, they had to act soon.

  And tomorrow should be soon enough. Sixty-six heavily armed 'troops' would move north and keep moving until they found opposition or else found something worth sending word for trucks to carry it back to the compound.

  If he was lucky, they would also find out who had killed his niece and his fellow board member's son. He looked forward to that. When he found whoever had killed his people he would show them what a mistake they had made.

  “You wanted to see me sir?” Zee broke into Shirley's thoughts.

  “I called you didn't I?” he replied testily. Zee flushed but said nothing else. Shirley shook his head angrily at himself.

  “Sorry,” he told the younger man. “I'm on edge like the rest of us. Yes, I wanted to see you. I've decided to place you in command of the new group your squad is a part of. I'm giving your squad to Calder, from Williams' squad. Butch will remain as your second, and I want you to listen to him, Zee. He has a good deal of experience in military matters and can be a good source of information for you. If you're wondering why he isn't in command, it's rather simple: while I trust his training and experience, I don't trust his decision making skills outside of his military experience. You've made good decisions in the past and I expect that to continue.”

  “Travis Maitland will be in overall command, so you'll take your orders from him. He already has his instructions and will pass them along to you this afternoon at your meeting. You will move out just after daybreak so make sure your people are ready to go when they bed down tonight.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Find whatever is up there and get rid of it,” Shirley added. “Find who killed Emily and Eugene for me, and put them down. Better yet, bring them to me. And strip the place bare. We need whatever is there. It's there for us to take. The strong survive.”

  “The strong survive,” Zee affirmed. “Will do, sir.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  “What are you doing?”

  Leanne Tillman was helpless to prevent her body's reaction to being startled and tried to turn on the narrow ladder even as she was jumping in surprise. The turn combined with her startled motion was enough to throw her off balance and send her tumbling toward the hard concrete floor of Building One.

  Before she could strike the floor, she felt a pair of strong arms encircle her, stopping her descent and pulling her upright at the same time. Trembling at her near-miss disaster, she looked up into the face of Heath Kelly, her maybe-though-she-wasn't-quite-sure-yet-for-certain boyfriend?

  “Thanks,” she murmured, face red from more than just embarrassment.

  “My pleasure,” Heath winked as he released her.

  “Get a room,” Lainie Harper jokingly chided. “Leanne, what in the world were you thinking, being up there while you were alone in here? You could have been seriously injured!”

  “I didn't expect to have someone scare the short out of me and make me fall!” Leanne shot back at her 'aunt' sharply, though not completely unkind.

  “You've still got plenty of short left,” Heath teased and Leanne's face went beet red again. “Are you okay?” Heath added before she could retort, his face and voice both showing real concern.

  “Yes,” she nodded, biting off the less than polite reply she had framed in reference to her being more vertically challenged than most of the people around her. It was a touchy subject.

  “What were you doing?” Lainie asked yet again.

  “I was looking for something,” Leanne replied. “I thought I knew right where it was but. . .apparently it has been moved at some point.”

  “What are you trying to find?”

  “Hot dogs.”

  -

  “So, you bought hundreds of hot dog skins and an attachment for a Kitchen Aid that will grind meat a
nd then force it into the skins?” Lainie repeated after Leanne's explanation.

  “Yes,” Leanne nodded. “I had forgotten it until we got the club opened,” she admitted. “We were talking about food and hot dogs came up. We have plenty of beef for hamburgers, but we could roast hot dogs over a fire and stuff. I don't have marshmallows, which was the other suggestion, but if I can find what I'm looking for and then get some help, I can at least provide some hot dogs.” She paused, looking first at Lainie and then more cautiously at Heath.

  “Will you help me?” she asked tentatively.

  “Thought you'd never ask,” Heath grinned even as Lainie smiled brightly.

  “Of course, we will,” her aunt promised. “What is it we're looking for.”

  -

  Clayton Sanders was walking around the farm, eyes taking in every detail as he surveyed the areas he was responsible for. So much had happened since the CME that had crippled most of the world by wiping out the majority of electronic means on the planet. So much had changed even since then.

  The most recent changes had been both good and bad, or at the very least unnecessary. First the remainder of his old team had shown up along with several other people and a number of working vehicles, some loaded with equipment that he still found himself shaking his head over. One of those new people had been an actual doctor of all things, an honest-to-goodness Army surgeon. Sure, said surgeon had been a queen-sized bitch for the first few days but then had settled into a good rhythm within the farm. Her presence was almost beyond calculable in value at this point.

  The group had also brought a total of seven other military personnel, six of whom had actual combat experience. Adding so many trained and experienced people to their roster had increased their safety to a degree that was again all but incalculable.

  The group had included a young man roughly Zach Willis' age who had been more than willing to be trained up to the same standards and would add yet another body to their security forces, along with three other men who were able to add to their machine operators and labor pool on the farm and help keep things moving. Moses Brown was a trained and experienced butcher who would be able to help them process the meat they harvested much easier than their own methods. Roddy Thatcher, husband to Captain Jaylyn Thatcher M.D., was a truck driver and had some farm experience while Cliff Laramie was a fuel truck operator and was familiar with heavier machinery.

  They had even brought a young woman who was close to par with the twins, Millie Long, who had valuable experience in radio equipment and computers, including how to build equipment herself. Having someone besides Clay's older brother, Robert, who could maintain their equipment was a welcome addition to the group.

  The final members of the new group had consisted of Shane Golden's cousin, Trudy Leighton, and her girlfriend, Gwen Paige. Clay had known almost as soon as he figured out the two women's relationship that it would make things on the ranch interesting, but he had not foreseen the true extent of it. Had never imagined that anyone on the farm was capable of such behavior.

  The steady campaign of harassment against the couple, and against Clay for 'allowing' them to stay, had culminated in a vicious false accusation leveled by Malitha George against Trudy Leighton. One that had been easily proved completely baseless and malevolent. When that had failed, the Georges and several others, Clay's own mother joining them, had delivered an ultimatum to Clay, since his grandfather had been on enforced bed rest after his own run-in with Matlitha:

  Either Trudy and Gwen left, or they would.

  Clay's response had been just as simple; “We 'll miss you.”

  As a result of that upheaval, six adults and four children had departed the farm for Jordan. Jordan was gradually getting back at least to its knees with assistance from the farm and had seemed like the obvious choice to make for people so offended by whatever the offense of the week was.

  Clay's mother was still not speaking to him save for when she absolutely had to, but he figured that was more a reflection on her than him. He didn't try to force her to speak to him and didn't impose on her life more than he had to. Hopefully she would realize sooner or later that her treatment of her youngest child was unfair, but Clay couldn't wait for that to happen before moving on with his own responsibilities.

  It wasn't all bad, however. Clay's father Gordon, after months of placating his wife Angela, had come down firmly on the side of his son, refusing to continue to place pressure on Clayton to do things her way, or even his own way. Clay's older brother Robert, along with his brother-in-law Ronny, had both likewise assured him that not only did they support him, their wives did as well. Their declarations had gone a long way in helping Clay's stress level.

  His significant other, Lainie Harper, had likewise told off her grandmother, Marla Jones, when the older woman had tried to get Lainie to use her relationship with Clay to get things her own way. Lainie had gone so far as to throw Marla out of the house she shared with Clay and then merely wave goodbye to her as Marla had departed for town.

  So no, life wasn't all bad, or even mostly bad for that matter. There were some rough places, sure. But they were facing The End Of The World As We Know It, so there were bound to be a few bumps in the road along the way.

  But with most of those 'bumps' now living somewhere else, things didn't seem nearly so bleak as they had even a month ago.

  He'd take it.

  -

  “Much better,” Greg Holloway complimented as the newly appointed 'peace officers' of Jordan finished their physical workout. “Much better all around. I see no one is breathing so hard anymore. Being able to move without becoming short of breath means your ability to shoot won't be compromised. That can make all the difference when it counts.”

  “Amen,” Sienna Newell agreed with a nod. The former MP was an able assistant, but preferred to allow Greg to take the lead since he had actually been a civilian officer, whereas she had not.

  “I want everyone to take thirty, get something to eat, and then meet us back here,” Greg ordered. “I know, I know, the kitchen doesn't serve lunch, but we brought something for you guys due to the work we'd be putting your through today. I admit it ain't much, but it's what we're having so there's that. Have at it.”

  Seven of the eight trainees headed for the green school bus where Virgil Wilcox was waiting to hand out lunch. The eighth, a tall blonde with her hair pulled into a single ponytail, lagged behind.

  “Something on your mind, Miss Gray?” Sienna asked her.

  “You keep talking as if it's a sure thing we're going to be shot at or have to shoot,” Gray noted. “What aren't you telling us?”

  “I hope you never have to draw your weapon away from the range, Miss Gray,” Greg said honestly. “But if you do find yourself in that position, then you need to be both mentally and physically prepared for it. In the event you find yourself in a shooting situation, it could mean the difference between life and death.”

  “I get that,” the blonde nodded slowly. “I still think there's something you aren't saying. Are you hiding something, or is it that you think we aren't ready to hear it yet?”

  “There's nothing to hide,” Greg replied. “There are bad people out there, Miss Gray. All around us. People who will steal anything you have and kill to do it. Taking people captive and using them or trading them to others who use them. Stripping entire areas of anything of value or of use without thought or care to the people left to do without. If you don't know all this by now then you've been living under a rock. That, along with your duties as a peace officer, are what we're trying to prepare you for. That's why we hope to gain a few more people to serve alongside you in the weeks ahead. Ideally I'd like to increase your numbers to the point that there are four of you working on every shift.”

  “Safety in numbers?” Talia Gray asked, a single eyebrow raised.

  “Exactly,” Sienna nodded.

  “I see,” Gray said slowly. “Thank you for being honest,” she added.

&nb
sp; “We've been nothing but honest from the start, Miss Gray,” Greg replied. “This is a dangerous time. You shouldn't need us to tell you that. Now you better head over and get something to eat,” he more or less pointed to the bus with his chin. “We'll be back to work shortly.”

  “Okay.”

  “She's pretty smart,” Sienna noted. “She's pretty, period, really,” she added, smirking at Greg.

  “She is that,” he nodded, ignoring her smirk. “Maybe she'd make a good chief constable, or whatever they decide to call themselves.”

  “Maybe,” she agreed.

  -

  “Well, I'd say you've cheated death again for now, Old Man,” Patricia replaced her stethoscope in her small bag as she smiled at her grandfather-in-law. “You're breathing much better and there's no rattle in your lungs.”

  “Air's clearer around here lately,” Leon growled. “All that damn hot air is gone.”

  “Could be it,” Patricia chuckled, her only reply to Leon's reference to the recent shake-up among the farm residents. “I'd say you are okay to have visitors again and to survey your kingdom from your throne,” she added with a wry grin. “I'd rather you didn't stray too far from your castle for another day or two, though,” she added more seriously. “Give your lungs a chance to get their strength back, so to speak. Okay?”

  “Ain't got nowhere to go, no way,” Leon shrugged. “No reason to leave.”

  “Anything I can get for you?” she asked.

  “Nah, I'm good, far as I know,” Leon shook his head, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “Thank you, Patty,” he smiled at her, a true, genuine smile that he didn't use often.

  “You're quite welcome, Pa,” she leaned forward to kiss his forehead. “If you need me just have Janice call me back. Love you, Old Man.”

  “Love you too, darlin'.”

  -

  Angela Sanders went about her daily chores without comment, just as she had every day since the rupture among the members of the farm community. Since that day she had spent most of her time in self-reflection, wondering if the destruction of her relationship with her youngest son was truly her own doing.